The One with the Wedding Dress. Erin Lawless

god, thank god the metaphorical little solar spots of lust hadn’t blinded her too badly – but still, spooling through her head on repeat, an unwanted cinematic experience of how it so easily could have gone down at the engagement party: drunk Cleo, lurching at Gray, lips smacking obscenely, like a cartoon character; Gray – too much of a gentleman to let his disgust show too much – calmly holding her at arm’s length and apologising, explaining that she’d completely misread the situation.

      Imagined embarrassment gnawed at Cleo’s stomach. She fed it some alcohol. Still, her insides cringed at the thought that Gray might guess at the run of her thoughts when she looked at him.

      Hence: Claire.

      Claire was a wonder – petite and cute, with skin as smooth and tanned as a Werther’s Original, set off perfectly by her Disney Princess blondeness. Standing next to Gray’s broadness and darkness just set her off all the better; these were the aesthetics that made sense.

      ‘History was my, like, third favourite subject at school,’ Claire was saying. ‘I mean, I didn’t take it for GCSE or anything, because I took Geography instead, but still, History’s great. We can learn so much from it, you know?’

      ‘Er, yeah. I guess I always thought so.’ Gray shot a quick sideways glance at Cleo, as if to double-check she was still present. ‘And I always say that it’s more like the study of the condition of being human. I always tell the kids that it’s the closest we’ll ever get to being able to guess at the future, when we know where we came from. We can’t escape the past,’ Gray continued, really warming to his theme. ‘And nor should we try, because I really hope that the amazing tales and truths of all the great men and women who have gone before us really inspire the kids to take that sort of action in their own lives. And remember: history is one giant story that leads straight to you.’